


Paro

by perryvic, Zaganthi (Caffiends)



Series: Emotional Intelligence [5]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Drinking & Talking, Dysfunctional Family, Fix-It of Sorts, Friendship, M/M, Negotiations, Newtypes (Gundam Wing), Post-Eve Wars (Gundam Wing), Post-War, Quatre Raberba's Uchuu no Kokoro | Space Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:55:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29906265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perryvic/pseuds/perryvic, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caffiends/pseuds/Zaganthi
Summary: "Quatre!" Duo's voice startled him, a voice coming into the suite without Noin or Treize.He found himself grinning as he stood up and turned to see the other pilot, his heart jumping with anticipation as his empathic sense reached out automatically. "Duo, it's so good to see you!" he said, remembering to try and control his abilities. "How are you? You look well!"His fellow Pilot was wearing the uniform he'd been issued badly, on purpose -- the collar on the jacket was open, flopped over, and his hair was still long and braided as if in defiance of any regulation that one might ask him to adhere to; he was looking like classic Duo. "I'm okay. You're looking better." He gestured to where he'd had a black eye, well healed now. "Not falling over half dead?"
Relationships: Treize Khushrenada/Quatre Raberba Winner
Series: Emotional Intelligence [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2186436
Kudos: 2





	Paro

**Author's Note:**

> Paro: n. the feeling that no matter what you do is always somehow wrong—that any attempt to make your way comfortably through the world will only end up crossing some invisible taboo—as if there’s some obvious way forward that everybody else can see but you, each of them leaning back in their chair and calling out helpfully, colder, colder, colder.

He had the tailor fit Quatre's uniform better, and on a whim had given him something of an appropriate rank so he would blend in better with the rest of the OZ delegation. Noin was arriving separately, had probably beaten their plane there, but the heads of every other department of OZ and their staff were with him to fan off and integrate into the negotiation proceedings.

It was a command performance, and he was ready for formal proceedings with Relena if she planned to go that route.

Quatre certainly looked a lot better than he had done over a month before, though he still had issues with nightmares. Now he looked every inch the aide and was ridiculously competent at it. He said it was because Treize did so much of it himself that it left him with a lot of time, but they'd found ways to fill that.

The upshot was Quatre was able to keep most of his gift under control; the trip to Sanc had been the incentive.

He would be able to see the other pilots, and he was armed as any other captain of OZ would be. It was either a terrible idea or his best idea, but Treize gave into it with enthusiasm; he was going in armed, sword and sidearm, though Sanc might take it as an insult.

Treize sometimes thought Sanc took his mere presence breathing as an insult.

They were scheduled for a series of pre-meetings and security strategic overviews and it was the last thing that he wanted but he had little choice. It needed to be done, and clearly he was paying his penance for... something he'd done in his life, one of hundreds of things, as he plastered on a sharp smile while they disembarked from the plane, to head to the castle. They were to be at the mercy and the hospitality of a kingdom he had once defended, early, when it didn't really matter. It was baffling, to be back, and to face such interesting levels of enmity even from Lady Anne. Une. Whoever she had decided she was. Anne he supposed.

He felt a little sorry for Quatre that he was going to be exposed to what he could only call a shitstorm brewing, but the pilot had assured him he could handle it now. He had to hope that was the truth.

They were going to test the assurances by fire when there was no chance to give up. He expected for Quatre to fall into step with him and to keep up. They had both healed up enough to manage a day of meetings and unpleasant socializing, and his face had stopped being disconcertingly messy enough that he was able to wear a proper eyepatch over the scarred disaster.

Quatre said he looked more debonair with the dressy eyepatch and scarring, but he was usually gently teasing him at the time. Perhaps that was the look he needed. Especially as they were being formally met by the Sanc delegation and Relena in full queen mode. "Welcome to the Sanc Kingdom, Your Excellency," Relena spoke as her delegation fronted off against theirs.

"Queen Relena, it's an honor to enter your kingdom under the auspices of furthering democracy and proceeding the elections." He bowed to the appropriate depth, flourishing as was appropriate in the presence of royalty.

"I am grateful for the support of OZ in this truly momentous endeavour," she replied and oh god, if it was going to be formal speeches all day he might just truly end it all now.

His sword wasn't for decoration, and he could very well run himself through with it and not suffer much. "Thank you -- we are your obedient servants." And hopefully that would end with a dismissal and his delegation could find their rooms and he could go most of the rest of the week without having to deal with her except in a diplomatic sense.

"Please feel free to use the facilities as if they were your own homes," Relena offered. "And I remind your delegation of the Sanc Kingdoms adherence to Total Pacifism and ask for their consideration and respect towards those ideals. "

It was probably the sword. Everyone noticed the sword. "The schedule of meetings and facilities for adhoc consultations can be found on your datapads. My Chief of security will be calling a meeting with representatives of each team later tonight, so please make someone available to him."

Never mind the gun holstered under his cape, the sword caught the eye. "Of course. We will respect the laws of Sanc. If that is all, Queen Relena, we'll stop cluttering up your hall and get to work?" He was still waiting for the formal dismissal.

"Of course General Khushrenada," she said, inclining her head. "If you will excuse me, I need to go and greet the delegations from Space. They are due shortly."

"We'll make this easier for you." He turned towards his collection, catching Noin's eyes and giving her a nod.

She had the loudest voice for, "Fall in," that he had heard since Anne, and they quickly cleared the room at a good march.

Relena's entourage left the chamber they had met in, and that left Quatre standing with him.

"She's worried," Quatre murmured once everyone was momentarily clear. "She has been told something that causes her anxiety, defiance and a thread of fear."

"And somehow, despite that, she told us to treat this as if it's our own home. What terrible choices." He quirked his eyebrow at Quatre. "What was it?"

"To get impressions like that I would have to have a connection ," Quatre replied. "But I would hazard a guess at a security threat. Not that that would be news."

He was right about that. Their own planning had been full of intelligence passed from Dorothy that indicated they could expect some form of disruption. Assassination was speculated upon as a popular choice.

The question was whose -- Relena or himself were popular front runners, and he'd certainly already bet on himself in the deadpool his officers were running in the comms unit, sneaky bastards. "The defiance is an interesting thread. Shall we loiter nearby as the colony delegation arrives?"

"It might be useful to get a read on them." That was true enough. "See if anyone shows foreknowledge or resistance to the process." He was still sure Dekim Barton was going to be their main issue but the exact composition of his allies would be valuable.

"See your sister," Treize agreed. "Come." And as they started to walk, he wondered if Quatre had known already that the L4 rep was going to be his sister.

"Which one?" Quatre quipped as they walked, which was a point. "An interesting turnabout for the colonies who turned on my father. But then you could argue I did, too." His voice was even but Treize knew enough that it was a deep emotional wound that Quatre's actions following it had spun him out of control for a time.

"The colonies return to the people they know. The Bartons, the Winners." Two old families with colonial ties going so far back, two completely different ways of dealing with the world.

The Winners with their pacifist ethos, reinvesting resources to the people and accumulating wealth in the process, and the Bartons who sought power, control and a militaristic model of government. Through a series of well-targeted assassinations, for which he was never going to forgive the elder Barton.

He was never going to forgive the man for Vingt.

Treize led the way down the hallway to a balcony that overlooked the next receiving area; they hadn't changed much of the layout when they had rebuilt and repaired the palace, so he could roam at will with familiarity. It seemed these delegates were being given the full route through the palace grounds and the formal entrance to the palace. Astute of Relena, but it rubbed in how much she disdained OZ in these proceedings as they had been diverted to the equivalent of the servants' entrance.

"They've arrived," Quatre told him, and that was impressive, the distance at which he was picking up something. That was something else that had seemed to increase and had caused some problems; halfway through Quatre’s stay, his sphere of direct influence had started expanding. There had been a few fraught days while he learned to control that reaction, too.

Relena clearly knew nothing of her own history, and Treize would take it upon himself to correct her of that. It left him intensely angry, and keeping it under a tight rein so he didn't trigger off Quatre. It was easier to lean against the railings, watch, and wait. "Surprised 01 doesn't have this blocked off. It's a perfect shooting gallery, always was."

"If I know Heero, he's probably blocked others off and left one or two open as a honey pot," Quatre murmured with a faint smile and looked at him. If he picked up anything, he said nothing. "Let's see what I can pick up.” He paused. “Well, impressing them worked on a lot of the entourage. We've got at least one or two smitten by Relena," he said conversationally. He closed his eyes for a moment. "Neutrals. There are some. Still harbouring losses from the war. L3, Dekim Barton..." He looked ill. "Definitely our man."

Treize drummed fingers lightly on the hand rail, watching the gathering far below and knowing that he was there with Quatre to be seen, as well. In the eves, waiting. "Murdered my father. Murdered Vingt. He doesn't even have to be our man at this point," Treize murmured lightly.

"Mm. I would need to be closer for details," Quatre admitted. "At least one of his people has the mind of a mercenary -- a plant, and that's without the staff who are coming in later. I can tell you he anticipates a plan. He, he has seen you and... hatred. Concern. Obstacle."

Treize waved a hand in one smooth gesture of acknowledgement, smiling at them. "Oh yes. He's not wrong. It's a shame we don't have mobile suits."

Quatre looked at him and raised his eyebrows at him at that outrageous lie. "A terrible shame," he agreed. "No, I can only pick up the rough shapes of emotions from here. We'll have to wait until the reception dinner."

"I miss the days when I was dumb enough to drink at these receptions. It always makes it easier." He continues to watch, picking out people in the crowd that he knew and didn't know.

"Iria.." Quatre smiled, having obviously sensed which sister of his was representing L4. "Well that will be interesting. She seems sweet, but I've heard some of the Council describe her as having the biggest balls at the table. Do you recognize the representative from L2 and L1? L2 is... feels like they have a general grudge."

"We burned down a church full of children and refugees. As the Alliance. So that'll be Mary Winchester. And L1 looks to be Augustus Moran. Semi-pacifistic in the tradition of the Yuy family, but... pragmatic." Treize waited for Quatre's reaction to what he had said.

"That explains the images of fire." Quatre nodded. "She seems bound and determined that they should not be overlooked again. Lots of abandonment, and feeling of oppression. Moran... hmm less pure of motive. Will follow the winning side and is out for the best deal."

"Easier to deal with. His youngest son went MIA somewhere early on in the war, when we were in transition." Over between the Alliance and UESA's stranglehold on the colonies, and the rise of OZ from inside the alliance.

"Is he likely to blame anyone?" Quatre asked, and he tried to get more of a read. They were able to be handled, however; Dekim, on the other hand, he wanted to stab personally. He had a few scars that man was responsible for and more to the point, the War in a lot of cases.

"Perhaps, but family doesn't mean attachment in these circles." Perhaps as Quatre understood himself, though it was hard to guess.

If he was lucky, he would find an excuse to deal with Dekim, rather than have to make one up.

"Hmm, Mary Winchester will respond well to Sally Po. Augustus will have a tendency to not take Relena seriously. He's been in the diplomacy trade long enough to believe idealism makes weak politics," Quatre said in a low voice. "He's most likely to respect yourself and Dorothy. Mary thinks Relena is a beautiful ideal she dearly would like to embrace but that she lives in a real world not a fairytale castle. Iria..." He smiled again. "She will try to make a colonial alliance with Mary and gain her vote with the promise of resource satellite development for L2. She will cut Augustus’s knees from underneath him, but is weak to Dekim’s military threats due to the total pacifism ideology most of the L4 has embraced."

Treize continued to watch them all idly as Relena was trying so very hard. "When the Alliance crushed Sanc, when the city fell, there were units from Romefeller who tried to back and protect the city. It was an interesting tug of war. If Relena snubs them as pettily as she just did OZ, she'll have insulted a total of well over fifty veterans who lost friends on behalf of her family and this palace, what it stood for. While we will have to deal with it carefully, it is to our benefit." 

"There are a lot of emotions involved in this negotiation and election." Quatre seemed to hesitate about something as if he was unsure whether to speak up.

Treize gave him a sideways look and pulled a little mentally, attempting to encourage through... whatever the hell was going on. "Oh, yes?"

"Can we discuss something privately?" he asked. "I feel a bit uncomfortable up here and there are at least two people spying on us from a long range."

"I hope they've had a wonderful time and have learned some history today," Treize said blithely, scanning through the darkness as he straightened up. "Let's find our suite and then we'll talk."

Quatre nodded and as they walked back he seemed to be having a mental debate with himself. They were sharing a suite which came with a separate bedroom. Quatre most likely would not be using it and he knew his teams would have inspected it for bugs and listening devices. Despite Relena's attitude towards Treize, she had not stinted on their accommodations and it was elegantly opulent in a manner which was very familiar to him.

He had been half waiting for a small janitor's closet from her attitude, which he suspected he would have immediately lit on fire. One of his staff had deposited their luggage, and he took a moment to unpack so his uniforms could unwrinkle.

Quatre was doing the same in the adjoining room, maintaining a fiction of sorts, he supposed. It was quiet in there for a bit and he wondered what had suddenly caused the shift in mood. He left him for a while, and after a reasonable delay, Quatre came back carrying his laptop and avoiding looking at him. If any of his other men looked like that, Treize would expect to be informed of a weekend leave that went awry.

"If you have bad news..." He let that linger, waiting for Quatre to say whatever he was going to say. He knew at least Quatre hadn't been into the hookers and cocaine which was the usual upshot of the weekend leave stories.

"I don't think so, I just.." he sighed. "I was going to do something without telling you, then I changed my mind and now I have guilt for even thinking about doing it without telling you in the first place." He sat down at the table near Treize and beckoned for him to sit down and turned the laptop around.

"If you don't tell me about it, I can't help you. We might end up going cross purposes." He moved to sit down, still eyeing Quatre dubiously for a moment.

"I'm hoping not," Quatre said. "I did this in all the free time I had. You kept my duties very light and we talked about things a great deal. Once you gave me access to a datapad without restrictions, I took the opportunity to tap into data sources from the various factions. I... now I think back I'm not sure why I didn't say anything before. Habit, I suppose, we didn't have anyone to report to and I tended to do my own analysis. Um."

Quatre shifted uncomfortably and pushed the laptop towards him. There was a file there called Anqa which he vaguely recollected as being the Arabian mythological version of the phoenix. Treize opened it, and took a moment to work out what exactly Quatre had laid out, despite the fact it was written in French. There looked to be plans for the election, to start with.

They'd talked about that, expanded upon it. He'd seen that before, in a way as part of their Comms and Plans development. But then he carried on in the file and found that it had gone a lot further. Massively further into a full blown peace strategy for the future, neatly broken down into staged facets, with each part evidenced, justified on how to make something that was not just good intentions and political hogwash. One section had drawn out diagrammatic hierarchies of the force he'd talked about as his vision one night -- the necessity of military power to continue to exist. They'd argued about 'Black Swan' events as they ate an excellent dinner and Quatre had pressed him with the tenets of total pacifism, and he remembered a cognac fuelled impassioned lecture... or two.

And here it was as a researched structured proposal and that was just a part of this document he knew would have taken even his team the best part of a year to put together if they were working flat out. He rubbed fingers at the side of his head, scrolling back and forth and checking references. Some of them were things they were already putting in place -- Anne with the structure of the Preventers she had been talking about to him and Sally and Noin -- but other parts of it...

"In the last month. You did this."

Quatre looked at him as if that was not the reaction he had been expecting. "Well, yes? I know you gave me some things to do for you, but you do so much yourself. So I started on this, and I've been tinkering with it."

Tinkering with it. From what he could see, it had immensely sensible and subtle levels. The economic connection was something he'd talked about with Quatre, but here were plans to expand economic links and bring up quality of life in space that far exceeded his experience. There were even recommendations of projects for research and development, scientists who were speculative but a practical application of their work would mean viable asteroid mining, a self-sustaining Mars colony...

Everywhere he looked there were pages of their conversations turned into clear practical strategies. And from the looks of it, Quatre's own thoughts and opinions were represented, too.

He looked up from it, at Quatre, feeling oddly baffled and a little overwhelmed, if he were being honest. The actual practical impact of what it had meant when OZ intelligence had identified Pilot 04 as the strategist was suddenly brought home to him all neatly wrapped in a document he had done in his ‘spare time’ - while recovering from injuries, dealing with a manifesting ability and being a prisoner of sorts.

Particularly since Quatre had written most of it, the large narrative swathes, with a French translation as well as Universal. "You are a wonder."

He'd surprised him with his response, he could tell that from his reaction. "Oh." The other pilot looked unsettled for a moment. "I was going to drop it to all factions anonymously at the same time and then... I felt uncomfortable because much of this is your work, Treize."

"Perhaps, but you did the hard work of writing it down. Which..." He waved a hand slightly from side to side. "I have been struggling with managing the concentration to do what's necessary, never mind forward planning. This is... astounding." It needed to be printed and bound and distributed immediately, they needed to seize the opportunity and run with it before negotiations became mired in egos and posturing. It needed not to look like a dictum from OZ, which it would immediately be suspected to be OZ or Romefeller with the French language version available.

"Before you declare something astounding, maybe you should digest it first," Quatre suggested. "You might not like some bits. We don't agree on everything." Even so, he could feel the warmth of the other man's emotions practically clinging to him as if praise was something novel and unexpected.

That was unfair and strange, and he made note of it as he turned the laptop back around. "Yes, well, let's give everyone something to argue about." He glanced at his wristwatch. "Me included. Can you make a copy of this and remove the French translations? So we can get this printed this afternoon and deliver it to the delegations while they're at dinner."

"Of course. If you think it's okay. I thought of it as a starting point," Quatre shrugged a little. "It's easier to negotiate if there's something there to remodel rather than starting from a blank page. The French translations were for you."

"I greatly appreciate them, and will need a copy of the one with translations so I know what I'm arguing with when we get there." It would throw Relena's delightfully over scheduled and unrealistic plan out of the window as well, with a suggestion of chaos.

"I'll make a few adjustments based on my recent observations, and I'll send it to you," Quatre answered, smiling now. The relief was palpable, practically oozing out of the other man.

"I'll leave you to it. The sooner we can get it sent out, the better. I wouldn't fuss with perfection at this point, and we'll all need to argue and bend on points to get there. But this is..." Comprehensive. "Shame you can't stand for the election."

Quatre actually laughed at that. "I think I've caused enough harm in my life without adding politics into the mix," he said. "Best to stay out of it and let my sisters uphold the Winner name."

"Maybe next time, as long as we don't end up with another dictatorship," he mused, leaning an elbow on the table and watching Quatre start to fuss with the file.

He moved at speed, enough so Treize started to understand how such a document had been produced so rapidly. He was quick; he knew that they had been trained, but it was one thing to know it and another to see it happen in front of him. No wonder their unaugmented reactions had been enough to take on the mobile dolls, driving them to reach even further with technology.

"Hopefully that won't happen, but there are elements that won't compromise."

"Part of the reason to keep OZ standing for a while even if it is moving to another name." He kept watching Quatre, letting some of the rage from earlier unravel and slide away. One could accomplish a great deal if one didn't care who got the credit. "We are an assurance and a threat."

"I remember that lecture," Quatre grinned, apparently more than capable of multi-tasking at speed. "But I took it a step further. Following our discussions. You are right; the necessity for warriors does not fade even if war does. Those skills and integrity are needed elsewhere in society than war, but they are always needed until the human race evolves a means to protect itself without fighting."

It occurred to him that Quatre might be the first step on that path. Treize gestured for Quatre to continue. "I would like to believe that it would end there, but...the heart of the universe tells me differently. There will always be a need for some to sacrifice ideals or live to a different code so that others can have that peace. The battleground might change, but that seed exists in the human heart for a reason," Quatre said. "I believe it is meant to be a protective force, a species survival instinct."

"Someone has to protect the pacifists from themselves. Again." He checked his watch again, working out the timings in his head. "Do you mind if I rope Lucrezia in?"

"Not at all," Quatre replied. "I know you trust her. I do, too."

He pulled out his data pad, and dropped her a message inviting her to come to the suite, to bring Duo with her. Co-conspirators always made a thing better, didn't they? "We'll have to have extras printed for those too drunk after dinner to get to the copy at their door."

"I thought you might be angry about it," Quatre said after a pause. "I'm not sure why, just..."

"No. No, this is amazing. You've..." He gestured at the laptop, and couldn't quite get it across. "You've done amazing work. We need to do something about your self-esteem."

Quatre laughed a little, "Don't let Duo hear you say that. He'll say that you've bought into the poor little rich boy act. If you want to see a virtuoso on the computer, Duo's got the edge on all of us."

"Duo wouldn't have been able to synthesize all of this." He stood up, and set a hand on Quatre's shoulder. "From one poor little rich boy to another, it's my favourite act. I'm going to retrieve Noin and see about getting these printed. Keep typing."

It was going to be a long, exciting day.

* * *

It hadn't taken him too long to produce a stripped down universal-only version of the plan. He renamed it the less culturally indicative Phoenix as an Islamic reference would cast suspicions on himself and the Winners and L4 delegation.

Quatre wasn't sure why he had been surprised at Treize's reactions; he guessed it was mainly because strategizing for the Gundam pilots had been like herding cats. Inevitably they got contrary, indifferent, or downright combative when someone tried to tell them what to do and how.

Treize disappeared to talk with his staff, and was having the copies printed and bound; he planned to have a copy from the original, with the French annotations. It seemed that had quite touched Treize, but Quatre was hard pressed not to notice how Treize was struggling with documents in Universal or English. He covered for it well, setting aside papers he was handed and shaking down someone for their opinions on it instead.

"Quatre!" Duo's voice startled him, a voice coming into the suite without Noin or Treize.

He found himself grinning as he stood up and turned to see the other pilot, his heart jumping with anticipation as his empathic sense reached out automatically. "Duo, it's so good to see you!" he said, remembering to try and control his abilities. "How are you? You look well!"

His fellow Pilot was wearing the uniform he'd been issued badly, on purpose -- the collar on the jacket was open, flopped over, and his hair was still long and braided as if in defiance of any regulation that one might ask him to adhere to and in all he was looking like classic Duo. "I'm okay. You're looking better." He gestured to where he'd had a black eye, well healed now. "Not falling over half dead?"

"I've healed up well enough," Quatre told him, feeling his abilities straining to greet Duo, recognizing the bond that was there already. "It turns out you have to take time when you lose a kidney."

"Shocking. General asshole not falling over, either?" Duo sat on the table, where Treize had been leaning not too long before. "Man, Heero is all wound up about this."

"Treize is doing better, much better." Quatre knew Duo would struggle with seeing what he had discovered in the last month or so. "What specifically is Heero wound up about?" He probably sounded a bit tense but that was mainly because he was starting to feel the pull of a compulsion. He'd hoped this was not going to be the case but whereas before his abilities had latched onto the mercurial chaos that was Duo's surface thoughts and feelings, this was a connection that was intent on going for the old hurts.

He needed to keep that in check, he didn't have time for that, and felt, oddly, as if someone had yanked a leash on him, a firm tug in another direction of his compulsion. "Just, shit. This, all of this here in Sanc is a massive threat. And of course..." He leaned in close, a bare whisper, "He's relocated our Gundams."

Sandrock. "Oh." He wanted that and that tug had felt like Treize. "Yes, we're well aware it is a trap. And likely we will have to do something about it." And his Gundam was here! "He knows who the source is, I assume?"

"L3 delegation. Except if we just shoot the bastard, that'll be the end of the elections, eh? So we have to wait, and that sucks." Duo didn't like waiting. Duo didn't want a threat to come to him slowly when he could preempt it, when he could intervene, because -- and there was that tug again, not a yanking feeling, but like compression, like a weight or a hug.

A feeling that now wasn't the time for it.

"I'm hoping to get more of a read on it at the reception," Quatre said shifting a little because that smarted like a leash being pulled tight. He could pull back but it was helping distract him. "You got anything yourself?" Duo liked to hide and use the element of surprise.

"We'll see." He lifted his eyebrows at Quatre, looking excited and thoughtful at the same time. "I'm just taking everything in, you know? Pretending to be an Ozzie. This is the weirdest damn farce."

He trailed off as the door to the suite opened, Treize leading the way in while Noin followed in confused concern. "I'm not doing that again unless I have to!" Treize was half laughing as he said it, but he was also covering a bloody nose with one white-gloved hand, and passing through the suite to the bathroom beyond.

"You, I haven't missed this at all," Noin declared, looking confused and oddly pleased at the same time. "Hello, Quatre. Treize said you'd scored a coup. Metaphorically."

"What on Earth have you been doing, Treize?" he asked, suddenly perturbed that the bloody nose was to do with him. "And I think Treize might be overstating the coup."

All he got as an answer from the distant bathroom was a laugh, and Noin shrugged her shoulders. "He used to put down fights in the barracks and then get a nosebleed. Blamed us for putting his blood pressure up. Haven't seen him do that in ages." Noin rolled her eyes, and grinned a little as she rocked on her heels. "This is going to be just like the old days. He said you surprised him with a comprehensive plan, and he was just getting the staff to run it off."

Quatre felt oddly embarrassed. He still wasn't sure how he felt about Treize's very genuine response to the plan and he wasn't even sure why it affected him so much, except he wasn't used to feedback. The most positive feedback he'd ever got in the war for a plan was the other pilots actually agreeing to do it.

"I put together analysis and strategy based on our discussions, and used the data available." He shrugged a little. "It's a starting point."

"It's better than throwing rocks at the colony reps."

"My speech is not throwing rocks," Treize called from the bathroom. There was running water, briefly, and then he stepped back out, a hand towel held to his bleeding nose.

"Very targeted bricks," Noin corrected. "Lobbed with precision, to maim and leave people uncomfortable in their chairs."

Duo stopped swinging his leg, and seemed to be watching Treize and Noin interact, like he could blend into the woodwork. It was one relationship he sensed from Treize that did not have an undercurrent of sexuality about it. He smiled a little, relieved, and in his curiosity, his ability reached this time for Noin when he'd been on his guard against Duo's memories and Treize.

There was just a surface interest in what was going on -- excitement, amusement, admiration, and fondness. She was grieving sadly as a baseline which he could feel underneath the other emotions, but there was nothing memory or emotion wise that was fighting for the surface or trying to ignite a compulsion. A half a memory there of meetings that involved Zechs was about all that was easy to touch.

"If you think I'm revising it because of this, you're wrong," he said agreeably, dabbing at his nose and seeming to hope it had stopped. Then he reached his clean hand out to straighten Duo's flapped over uniform collar. "At least pretend to not be completely insolent."

Quatre chuckled. "You are asking the impossible," he said. "Anyway, Treize believed this would go better with collaborators."

"So what're we collaborating on?"

"An excellent synthesis of schemes that were dart-boarded out very poorly over the last month. Quatre, care to catch Noin and Duo up on this?" He stepped back a bit, letting Noin move in closer to look at Quatre's screen.

"Right, so." Quatre paused. "We've been discussing how to build a lasting peace, assuming we deal with whatever is going on here. Once I was given unfiltered access, I could get to the requisite data to provide analysis. It has multiple areas of focus and staged phases. The creation of a law enforcement body for ESUN to redirect militaristic power, economic connection, and the proliferation of trade interdependency. The immediate development of resource satellites for specific Colonies to reduce humanitarian pressures to start with."

"Okay." Noin was scrolling through, scanning it. "Yes, some of this is familiar, some of it..."

"Wait, unfiltered access?" Duo perked up. "To OZ records?"

"Yes," Quatre said looking at him. Apparently he had been alone in receiving that courtesy and perhaps he had used it a little further than anticipated because he had managed to find his way into the intelligence gathering center and gather some raw data himself. "Treize allowed it."

Noin gave Quatre an interested look, and then her eyes went back to the screen as she scrolled. "Uh-huh. I'm pretty sure _I_ don't have actual unfiltered access..."

"You do. You have since the Eve War ended and you came back, at least." Treize wiped at the last blood at the edges of his nose, and walked a little closer to them all. "There's some points of minor contention, but I think it makes it a more interesting document for it."

"I have tried to be as thorough as possible," Quatre said, glancing to see Duo's reaction. There was a hunger for something in his fellow pilot that was reaching out to him. "And Treize and I disagree on some points, which is all to the good, I believe. It will be a genuine discussion if it's negotiated."

It felt like a yearning for belonging. Oddly.

"Okay. I can see why you were so enthusiastic about this, sir," Noin murmured, stepping back a little, closer to Duo. "So we just carry on like we are, with this out there."

"Knowing that I, and thus OZ, supports most of the positions in the document, yes."

"We need to get this to all areas and delegates without them knowing the source," Quatre shifted, turning his attention to his friend. "Duo, I was... going to do this without involving OZ, and come to you. What's the best way to get this out there?"

"Like newspapers. You know, just get it out there, leave it randomly in places." He looked over at Noin for a moment. "This is what we're doing during the banquet, isn't it?"

"You might be, but I can't afford not to have Noin present. For the long-term sake of her career, it's important that she start to become a very familiar face at these events and not in a subordinate position supporting someone in security." Treize clapped her lightly on the shoulder with his clean hand.

"We're having that security meeting with Heero later," Quatre muttered, thinking. "The others might be willing to help, then we could all make appearances as required. "

"Okay." Duo kicked his leg again slightly, looking between the three of them. "So we're really all working together."

Treize flashed a bright smile which didn't seem insincere. "Yes. I'm not secretly planning to thwart the election and seize control."

To Quatre the thought of Treize wanting that was downright ridiculous, knowing what he did now. "The one who wants that is Dekim," he murmured. "I'm going to need to get close to him to find out plans, though."

"I'll arrange for it," Treize remarked. "I'm sure he wants to come by and rub salt in some old wound." Duo still looked dubious, but most days prior to the last couple of weeks, Treize had felt closer to a potential suicide than the next world dictator for a third time. Quatre had done his best to pull him back from those thoughts, but the overwhelming sense was that he just wanted it to be over. Everything. It still hurt sometimes; he'd pushed it down to an aching bruised feeling in his chest, but it was manageable.

Those were the days he'd had to fight to give Treize reasons to stay. "What do you think Duo?"

"I think we can. I think at least you and I can distribute them after the meeting. Might be able to rope Wufei in. Trowa seems kind of bought into all of this."

"Excellent." Treize checked his watch, and wiped at his nose one more time. For the moment, the sheer contrary anger of being able to outrage so many other people just by existing seemed to be enough to keep him from peeking over the dark edge with any deep curiosity. "We should probably go in about five minutes."

Trowa... what would it be like seeing him again? Quatre knew how he had felt, but things might have changed. "We'll follow you there," he promised. Maybe he should find time to be alone with the others at the meeting.

He was planning to after the meeting, but maybe... Maybe a few minutes. just to see Trowa. Just to... Just to reconnect. Just to see how he was.

"I meant you both, as well." 

Quatre paused a moment. "It won't be easy to slip away during the banquet to distribute these." he mused. "Our absence is likely to be noted at the start, at least."

"If you all leave to discuss security toward the end..." Treize shrugged his shoulders. "Most will be too drunk, and people will drift off."

He nodded to that suggestion. "Would that work ,Duo?" he asked. Duo was much better at stealth than most of them.

"Yeah. I mean we can make it work. Either way we'll run into people but if there's reports of the pilots distributing, it kind of gets weird in a good way, you know?"

"Good, because my people need time to finish printing them." Treize glanced around Noin, and she sighed, and eyed him.

"No, you're good. There's no blood on you." And then she turned back to Duo and tried to get his collar straightened.

"Last chance to freshen up," Treize said, leaning over to close Quatre's laptop screen.

"I think I'm okay," he decided, checking his uniform and knowing Treize would let him know if he looked rumpled in some way.

He put his hands on Quatre's shoulders, checking his epaulets, and then letting his hands idle down his upper arms. He was grinning, a deeply pleased smile. "You'll pass muster quite well."

He smiled back, aware of Duo's attention to him. Well he would have to explain later, if the other pilot was willing to hear him out. "Thank you. We better go then. Wouldn't want to keep Relena waiting."

"Her mother would be upset with her right now, but barring a time machine..." Treize stepped away, and headed to the door of the suite. Meanwhile, he could feel Duo's eyes on him, as he hopped off the table.

He looked back at Duo, trying to get a read on what he was thinking from his expression.

There was some discomfort there, some thinking, nothing he felt a compulsion to dig deeper on. Jealousy and concern... Jealousy? That was a new flavor in the mix.

Duo walked away, waiting for a moment for Quatre to catch up.

* * *

Typical banquet, in a general sense, though there were differences of note -- with Noin and Duo at one table, and he and Quatre at another, with Relena having mixed up the tables rather than the saner technique of allowing groups to mingle among themselves, rebind and perform outreach at their leisure.

Treize found that irritating, but not insurmountable. They could mingle after the food had been served. Still he was surrounded by an eclectic group. Notably, he had been put on a table with Mary Winchester of L2 which wasn't the most politic of table seating.

It was in fact a terrible decision, a flamingly terrible decision considering the dark episode in Romefeller history of the Maxwell Church massacre, but instead he was going to gather up most of the tact he had and perform the first outreach to her and her delegation. "Delegate Winchester, it's good to finally meet you face to face." He had done enough work with her predecessor, but expecting continuity of thought was an excellent way to waste one's own time.

"General Khushrenada," she said in a rather flat tone. "I've wanted to meet you face to face for some time."

Nicely ambiguous, and with a hint of a threat. He could tell Quatre shifted beside him, reorienting himself from the minor dignitary he had been talking with politely. He rather enjoyed when someone was forthright about their dismay in dealing with him. "I've heard L2 has been making great strides in the refinement of scrap metal scavenged after the war."

"We have, though ESUN has yet to be forthcoming with the humanitarian aid for conditions on L2," Winchester answered in no nonsense tone. "We're treated like something from the dark ages."

He could sense Quatre half willing him to say something; he might know emotions but this was a political dance and you didn't give everything away for no advantage unless you were blond, rich, bizarrely kind, and an ex-Gundam pilot.

"Yes, yes, you are." It probably wasn't what Quatre wanted to hear from him; he meant it honestly as he looked at her. "I know it's in the pipeline, but unfortunately I haven't been involved in the humanitarian aid distribution."

"No, I suppose that wouldn't fall under the remit of OZ," she said and sighed. "Forgive me, I'm... frustrated at the opulence I see around me here, and how much we usually have to deal with, but without L2 and our manufacturing, Space would not survive."

"No, no they wouldn't. And we know that L2 is a source of metals that can only be produced in space, key metals for many other manufacturing processes. Like Gundanium." He picked up the spritzer that was doing a very bad job of pretending to be a full glass of wine. "I do have it within my remit to discuss trade deals with the colonies separate of ESUN. Who on your delegation should I have my acquisition team discuss these things with?"

"A trade agreement?" she seemed surprised at that approach. "My son Samuel deals with acquisitions. What is it that you're interested in?" He remembered from his read through of Quatre's analysis, sections on ambitious forward plans to develop Mars using the manufacturing might of L2, as well as developing harvester ships for the asteroid miners using Gundanium alloy as a scoop, which until now had been the preserve of the military. It would revolutionize the mining process, apparently.

"I need titanium to repair our Leo fleet. Even with the reduced numbers that will be formally proposed tomorrow, my fleet still needs repairs desperately. I'm willing to offer money, resources, support of people, payments in goods and services that your colony might require. But as you know Earth has been out of titanium for a very long time, and most of what we had, you now have." He gave her a gracious smile and lifted his eyebrows at her. "So you can name your price." 

She softened a little. "General Khushrenada, I'm not a hundred percent sure, but I'm pretty confident in a negotiation, you don't advise the opposite party that they could name their price."

But it had disarmed her as a tactic, and paved a non-linear way to long term connections.

"But why waste your time by pretending that what we both know isn't true? You have resources I need, I have access to things you need. Samuel, you said?" He scanned the room a bit, waiting for a leading sort of correction on whom that would be and where they would be.

"You can't miss him, he's rather tall," she said with maternal pride. "He tends to loom over people -- though he has his father's darker colouring. I believe he was sitting with the Romefeller contingent."

"Oh, that's unfortunate for, well, him." Of course, and there he was sitting beside his stepfather. "I'll make appropriate introductions and then connect him to my acquisitions team." 

Quatre twitched beside him and he guessed he didn't always have his emotional reaction about his step-father under control. He had a lifetime of hiding it from his face, though. Mary smiled. "Isn't it, though? I see some of your reputation for charm is well deserved."

He laughed softly, and inclined his head. "Thank you, and yet, I really do feel the urge to chum the waters. And discuss this briefly so Samuel has time to think it over before the morning negotiations begin in earnest." He snagged his drink, and placed a light hand on Quatre's shoulder as he stood up and passed him, pressing him gently, a signal that he didn't need to follow. He was more useful at the table when Treize was away from it than he was following into hostile territory.

Fortunately, he seemed to understand and stayed where he was, though felt the need to somehow send him off with an empathic hug lingering around him. Romefeller meant Dorothy and Trowa as well as a host of other dignitaries who had been around when he had been ousted. They had all played games with one other, but his internment in Luxembourg had been criminal, and they shouldn't have been surprised that when 01 cleared the field -- literally -- around his cage, he'd put them down hard when he'd risen up. He wasn't one to forgive that treatment lightly, and he wasn't going to pretend it had been a secret kept, somehow, from this powerful inner circle.

Not Dorothy, though -- she had always been an ally, his dear step-cousin, and even Trowa was more of a polite acquaintance than some of them. He was smiles all around as he arrowed for Samuel Winchester, taking a sip of his drink as he looked at and nodded to Dorothy, and Hundelt. "Good evening, Cousin Dorothy, Hundelt. Good to see both of you. Mr. Winchester, may I speak with you for a moment?" Acknowledge and draw away quickly seemed like his best bet.

The tall man seemed surprised to be addressed so directly. "Me? Yes, of course Your Excellency," he said, moving over.

"I am sure we'll catch up later, cousin," Dorothy replied and Trowa was just a lurking shape beside her, but his eyes were fixated on him. Probably studying him for some hint of what he had been doing to Quatre.

"Of course, and at your leisure, Dorothy." He half-bowed to her and then stepped away a few paces with the younger Winchester. It wasn't keeping secrets, but he wasn't in a mood to discuss anything greater than the weather in front of that nest of vipers who had mistakenly thought to be pulling his strings at the end and then punished him for his defiance when he refused to back the mobile dolls.

"I was just speaking with your mother and OZ is interested in establishing a trade deal with L2 for titanium."

"A trade deal with OZ? That would be very advantageous to the colony," Samuel Winchester replied cautiously. "Are we talking about exclusivity? Because we have several interested parties for Earth rare metals. Some are willing to pay premiums for an exclusive negotiation."

"Does it benefit you more that way? I don't require exclusivity, only access to adequate supply, but if it creates an appropriate financial benefit to L2, that's fine. I need to repair what is left of our Leo fleet. L2 scavenged most of the ones that were damaged during the Eve Wars along with the bodies of our soldiers. So you're sitting on quite the stockpile."

"We do have significant amounts," Samuel replied and he became aware that Quatre was sending him warm and relaxed feelings, presumably as a response to his spiking internal anger. "We have a section that's salvageable parts, but obviously those that need reclamation." He cleared his throat. "We're intending to commence development of the Asteroid K458, however the finance to develop it is proving difficult to secure in a post war setting."

That had been in the documentation. Quatre's research had suggested the spec of K458 was unusually high in not just rare metals but in a cross reference to other research was showing a profile of surface minerals that had been associated with Gundanium. He had suggested it as something that needed to be developed either directly by the force most likely to become the backbone of his protection group. 

The weird wave of warmth was something he didn't know how to handle, and it wasn't appropriate for where he needed to be mentally just then, though he could understand what Quatre was attempting to do. It was damn disconcerting, and he ended up exhaling in a huff that he hoped Winchester interpreted as a response to his obvious fiscal arm twisting. "OZ requests exclusive rights to military-priority minerals discovered during L2's development of Asteroid K458, on behalf of ESUN, and will fund your financial requirements for the entire development project, to include non-military priority minerals."

Winchester's eyes widened and he managed not to say 'whoa', but only just. "We'll be very pleased to negotiate that agreement with you. I'll contact your team in the morning?" He looked like he couldn't believe his luck.

But Treize remembered his unit following out Alliance orders on L2, and the burning church. He reached into a small pocket on the outside of his jacket, a hidden breast pocket that held a few data chips with his family crest. He handed it to Samuel. "Give this to Colonel Brecht when you see him in the morning. It's my personal assurance that the outrageous seeming thing you're about to discuss with him is backed by a previous discussion with me." His men knew the drill well. "It will keep the heat out of the negotiations. I want this more than I want to waste time fighting for ten credits reduction in price here and there."

"Thank you," Winchester said. "You have no idea what this financial security will mean to the colony, it's, well it's a game changer."

And only the first step. Still, it felt good to be able to do that. OZ secured its place as the best option for the protection force by having an infrastructure renewal source which protected the careers of his men. It kept Gundanium away from Dekim. It allowed L2 to start redeveloping, and he would most likely get preferential rates on the salvage parts.

"I don't think any of us can help our colonies by playing the old games any longer. Looking forward to working with you and your team, Mr. Winchester." He half-saluted the man as he turned away, heading back to the table. "Have a good evening with my dear cousin!" He was certainly her type, though he didn't think she was on the game that night.

Dorothy smiled at him and he noted the appraising look in 03's eyes as he moved away from that table, heading back towards his own.

He tucked that moment away, though it was nothing he could ever do to figure out why or what it was for. It wasn't as if he was conversant with 03. He was sure he'd hear of it if Dorothy felt it was anything worth mentioning. The new establishment could shun the organization that had kept White Fang from dropping a spaceship onto the planet, and had kept them from firing on earth more than once, but they couldn't make them just go away. He sat back down at the table, timing perfect -- food was being served.

Quatre was now talking pleasantly to Mary Winchester as if they were old friends. "...ethos of the L4 council not to invest resource satellites in potentially military applications," he was saying. "But for humanitarian basis, they would most certainly invest."

"I see," Mary said thoughtfully. "It was believed that their rejection of our proposal was more to do with their other trade links. Perhaps we should consider a different approach. "

"I can assure you the lead negotiator of L4 would be most receptive," Quatre said and then looked up at him and smiled.

"It's a shame you're not able to help your home delegation, but are instead stuck with OZ." He returned the smile with ease as he settled back down, setting down his empty glass. Somehow a glass of red had materialized at his seat, as well as a small starter salad. The complimentary alcohol was going to be a constant struggle, always was at those events. "Still, your insight has been most appreciated."

"Thank you, sir," Quatre said and Mary smiled.

"I did wonder why your aide-de-camp was giving such excellent advice about L4," she said, nodding, as if all was explained. "I hope you managed to speak to Sam?"

"I did, and I've made sure that his time with Colonel Brandt tomorrow will be effective and to the point for him. I hope to have the agreement to sign by lunch tomorrow." And god help him if anyone wanted him to read it first.

Mary looked impressed and her attitude towards him was very different. "You do move fast when it comes to business," she said. "L1 likes to play hard to get. We're still waiting on several negotiations we started with them a month ago."

He could tell Quatre knew something about that, but now that Treize had returned he was being... deferential. He wished he hadn't; Treize's core staff had historically bordered on complete insubordination. The urge to drag Quatre off to the men's room for a quick recalibration was strong; he would've done it with Noin, Une or Zechs, but Quatre was politically quite a different creature. "L1 has a long history of respect for their own well-ingrained political and bureaucratic processes. I would settle in for a long haul."

"Sometimes, we don't have time," Mary answered. "I appreciate a man who makes swift decisions." She ate a bit of her salad and then said, "So, the elections. How do you see them going?"

He laughed and took a bare sip of his wine before picking up his fork. "Right to the heart of it. I see them posing a security challenge. As for the outcomes, it depends on how the campaigns go, and who ultimately is elected, both for the Parliament and for the president." 

"Are you tossing your hat in the ring?" she enquired. It sounded polite but it was almost as if she was hinting she would back him if he did.

He wouldn't squander that bloom of goodwill. "No. And I hope by the end of this meeting the other delegations will believe me when I say it. My place is with the military, supporting the ESUN's civilian leadership; we need a peacetime leader."

"Mm. Fair enough," Mary said with a hint of disappointment. "As long as there's fair representation, I'm happy."

"The question will be who would everyone agree on as President," Quatre threw that conversational gambit out to the table. "Everyone has differing opinions on what's needed for a start."

The ensuing conversation bought him a little time to eat and listen as people put forward their personal opinions on what they thought would be needed. He was able to ease back a little, finishing his salad, and observing the rest of the table as they seemed to relax and chat a little more. Something of their discussions turned from performative to real talking, and it was outside of the performative tone where he kept his own council. He was a public figure; he had very little that wasn't in the public record.

Quatre on the other hand was adept at keeping things going and talking but no one seemed to think he was anything more than a flunky of OZ. Certainly he wasn't even implying that he had specifically been anything in the war which made sense. He could have hinted, because people knew they existed and were held as POWs, but he just kept the conversation ticking over, and led it on to lighter, less political things.

"I keep threatening to cook for the General, but I'm not sure why but he tends to have meetings over run on the days I propose it," he was saying with an innocent look.

"Purely coincidence. I'm truly sure you're the one pilot in the entire force who is capable of cooking anything other than reheating field rations, or grilling meat." There was a wry twist of his mouth as he stuck his fork into a bit of chicken that was slightly overdone. But it was also the least likely to hit someone's religious dietary restriction in the room, and that was the sort of thing Sanc was well known for being careful with. "You certainly don't want me to attempt to return the favour."

“I’m not a chef, but I do know how to cook something edible. “ Quatre said. “Or maybe you just don’t like spicy food?“ It was said in a teasing tone and Treize knew the pilot was trying to demonstrate his more human side.

He didn't really need it demonstrated, but it was amusing that he was trying. "Hmn, I'll let you finally try when we get back to headquarters. We'll see what you consider spicy."

“Is that a challenge sir?“ He answered with a hint of devilry in his eyes. Treize began to wonder What he had let himself in for. “Some of the specialties of L4 can get a little hot.”

He might actually end up regretting it a bit, which amused him as he sipped at his water glass, and ate a little more boring chicken. "Has to be an improvement on banquet chicken, no matter how hot."

“This is good stuff compared to what we usually have,” Mary pointed out. “ Our colonial dish is probably pizza. Cheap, quick and easy.”

"Flavorful," Treize countered, looking thoughtfully down at the chicken. "But we do take food for granted here on Earth."

“It is definitely something different up in space. Mainly meat substitute for a start,” Mary said without rancor.

Quatre nodded. “Without a resource satellite capable of supporting farming, the costs are prohibitive. But some of the L2 dishes show how ingenious you can be with limited resources.”

"Being on the dark side of the moon compounds it." It kept them from using solar the way the other Colonies did, yet it made for perfect manufacturing conditions, so there was more population there than L1.

There decidedly needed to be a... redistribution of wealth.

“I believe there has been researching and development that would make resource satellites feasible without solar power,” Quatre added.

“Your aide is very well informed General,” Mary commented.

"I'm allowed my pick of officers for my aide-de-camp, so only the best; he's excellent, a consistent surprise." He took a swig to finish off his red wine, and set the glass away from himself. "And he's quite right, so the question is -- where is it in your development pipeline?"

“Too far off.” She admitted. “We are caught in the trap of having too little cash flow to be able to take the hit that would be needed to invest in something that would make our lives so much better.”

He leaned back in his chair, thinking. "Do you have investors your government is already working with? Or..." He tilted his head slightly, mulling over his words. "There are formal and informal things that can be done."

“I’ve explored a lot of formal methods, “ She said with a hint of frustration. “But I’d like to hear what these informal methods are?”

"There are... angel investment groups. I dislike the term, but it usually implies startup funding without intervention, and a promise of minor returns on investment, as if the project were more of a... different sort of bank." He took a sip of his water.

“Perhaps we should have a more private discussion at some point?” Mary answered shrewdly. He knew she would be quizzing her team about his suggestions for pitfalls. Desserts were being offered now, the turnaround rapid.

"I think so. At your leisure, sometime before this conference wraps." He cocked an eyebrow at her. "My parents were married at Maxwell church. I think you'll find few soldiers in OZ who don't... have a complicated relationship with the colonies."

“And vice versa.“ Mary was obviously thinking hard. It was apparently Quatre’s cue to continue making light conversation that lasted through dessert and took a break only after Relena’s suitably gushing introduction speech to the conference. She was encouraging the mingling and cooperative working and really, he’d already begun.

But now the rest of the conference was breaking apart, people turning their chairs and moving around, and Mary was looking for someone else to work with; he knew he'd given her a lot to think on.

“I’ll need to go to the security meeting soon, “ Quatre said. “Is that okay?”

"By all means, please. Say hello to Trowa for me." He winked at Quatre. There was still a great deal of work to do, and he supposed he could get up and see what Dorothy or Hundelt wanted to talk to him about.

Treize needed to make his presence felt in the room. That was one disadvantage of everyone thinking he had nearly died; he would be discounted if he didn’t show them that he was still on form. Treize got up as Quatre made his excuses and disappeared into the throngs of people. He decided to approach Dorothy first, to see if there had been anything she needed to pass on urgently.

He had been clearly grievously injured, though the eyepatch didn't do most of the talking for him on how that last battle had gone. So he didn't mind wandering the now bustling room, being seen, saying hello to people he half knew, being alert as he finally saw Dorothy.

She was without Trowa and smiled genuinely when he approached. “My favourite cousin,” she said looking amused. She looked older than her years, dressed up to the nines as she was.

She was gorgeous, always had been; there was sort of a straining to be taken seriously, but he couldn't fault her. She had gone a different route than he had, more beloved and protected than him in the Catalonia family, except in the kind eyes of her missed, deceased father. "Dorothy, you're looking well. What can I do for you?"

“I’d like to see you at your earliest convenience in private to discuss some information we have recently acquired,” she said. It was clear she felt it could not be talked about here. “I am sure it will be discussed between your guest and mine but I’d like to go over it personally.”

"We could." He gestured with his eyes to the door. "I'd already had a couple of usefully interesting discussions if you can afford to bow out." He was aware of his stepfather, failure in ascendency, watching them both from a slight distance; the mantle of the Catalonia family had skipped the man and fallen to his niece. 

"Let us just step to one side a moment," she said. "It is something small but it could have ramifications and I wanted to appraise you of where we were."

He inclined his head, and said nothing more, stepping to the side with her. It looked suspicious, but if he was being honest either one of them on their own could look damn suspicious.

The chosen area was not completely isolated, but no one was in earshot. "We have a confirmed assassination gambit, targeting you specifically," Dorothy said becoming all business. "Trowa... Agent Barton believes they will try it publicly at first."

He sipped at the water glass he was carrying, feeling nothing at all at the news. He supposed he should have been distressed, or concerned. "03 really needs to pick a new name, really. The man was a pederast. What does he think, during my speech tomorrow? That would sort of work in our favour."

"03 believes that their intention is to ensure the world sees you die so that would be the first public and televised event. He will be discussing that at the security briefing." Dorothy looked at him concerned. "I am alerting you to take precautions. Please... Please say that you will?"

He didn't look at her, but instead scanned the room. If he did get taken out, what would fall apart? Would ESUN survive if he died now? "As a favour to you, Dorothy, I will take this seriously. We're still going forward with the speech, of course. Do I need to join the security meeting and make it awkward?"

"No, I'm sure your aide-de-camp has it well in hand," Dorothy replied. "It is as well for us that our current goals are aligned with theirs."

"I've been as honest with him as possible," Treize shrugged, looking at her finally now that he felt more settled in his decision. "I suspect and hope we all are. Thank you for the heads up."

"Don't get martyred, cousin," she said, just taking hold of his hand for a moment and the sense memory of that was enough to take him back to happier times. And then she was off to speak to the next person on her list.

He set his water on the tray of a circulating waiter, and grabbed himself a white wine, pondering just how to avoid a headshot. He had body armor he could put on under his uniform, so that would be a must. Still. 

Was it quite so bad that his inclination was obvious to Dorothy?

Perhaps he hadn't been as guarded to ones who knew him well as he thought. But there weren't as many of those who knew him well left now. Zechs would have called him on it, perhaps. Or encouraged him to drink it out.

A headshot... If there was a sniper, that was going to be difficult to deal with, although he had Quatre and his sensing ability. But it might be too late.

He really should have been more concerned, but the most he could muster was that he was tired. It was going to be a week-long slog, all to the betterment of the world, but an uphill fight every step of the way and now someone wanted to put a bullet in his head.

So, of course that was when he spotted his step father walking toward him.

Hundelt seemed to not change much, just grow a little greyer each time he saw him. Still, despite everything he tried to maintain kinship there when his own familial affection had been dead and buried for years.

"Treize, it is good to see you looking...so much better than the news report indicated."

It was just... strained, for reasons that were quite obvious to both of them. "What's the old line? Reports of my death were greatly exaggerated?" He tapped the outside of the eyepatch. "That's not coming back, though."

"A permanent injury, then?" his father in law queried. "I'm sorry to hear that. I hope it is healing well." It sounded vaguely nice, but in the manner of someone empathising with a stranger.

"Quite nicely." He sipped at his wine, and threw Hundelt a tight smile. "How have you been?"

"Business is picking up again following the war," he said. "Always a plus."

The awkward thing about Hundelt was that looking at the man made him think about his mother; less Vingt, he didn't really see Vingt in him, had to have been recessive genes. No, he inevitably remembered that night; the howling rage, his mother bleeding, a miscarriage, her complete confusion, and him nearly getting taken out by falling backwards down the damn spiral staircase. He took another sip of wine. As he'd gotten older, the man's response had made more sense, because people went a long way for denial. "I'm sure. Any work with the colonies?" 

"We had to stop during the war -- too many transports got destroyed in the crossfire." He said. "But now, well, it's a new market out there." He seemed so... insipid in many ways. He almost wanted a fight back, something to strike out against but nothing.

Just nothing. Just like smooth glass, or flat earth. He wasn't sure. "I'm sure it is. Afraid I know little of business. I'll have to leave that to you and Dorothy."

"You seem adept at negotiations," he said. "I saw you in action earlier on with L2." Just because he cut to the chase, this was a big deal apparently.

"Always and only in the service of OZ, Hundelt. I wouldn't know what was or wasn't interesting if it didn't have a military use." There was still time for someone to shoot him in the back of the head if they wanted to assassinate him off screen, away from the media streams.

It would be an excellent excuse to get away just then.

"It's a shame really. You could have put those talents to work on the family business," his step-father said.

The family business. The... Christ. "Once I went to Victoria Academy, that was sort of set in stone," he noted wryly, "and isn't war the other family business?" Peace makers on one side of the family, and warriors on the other, and surprise surprise who was still alive.

He gave a faint mirthless smile. "I suppose it is. Nevertheless, should you find yourself wanting a career change, there is always a place for you."

He was trying not to be insulted but for some reason that made him very angry.

"I'll just carry on making my own place in the world. But thank you, I suppose." He took another sip of his wine, trying to swallow down the rage. "I'm afraid I was going to speak to a few others, if you'll excuse me." He did need to find Relena, or Anne; either one would be about on par for an enjoyable conversation.

Hundelt nodded. "Go, mingle," he said as if giving him permission and...he felt nothing for the man. Nothing at all.

Chilias had been a brilliant man, and when he'd died in battle outside of the moon base five years ago, they had mourned him hard. He had a collection of memories of the man, good memories, things that made him regret time not spent, and pleased that he had been able to learn as much from Chilias as he had. It was a shame, too, that Chilias's death had left him the youngest General the alliance had ever had, though he hadn't been unprepared.

Rather than argue, he left. It was easy to pick out Relena, and he knew it would be a political statement, but he needed to reassure her somehow, that he didn't plan to run for President. They needed to work together, even if she thought giving him the public cold shoulder was somehow going to be her best leg up. And if she truly believed it, he was going to give her one more chance, he supposed. 

Treize saw staff stiffen up a little as he approached her and the minor dignitaries move themselves at his approach. It left Relena with little option but to smile at his approach in welcome. He hoped the easy smile he had plastered on his face, held there with years of practice, was holding well. "Queen Relena. I wanted to thank you for your hospitality this evening."

"General Khushrenada, it is a pleasure to have your presence here in the Sanc Kingdom," she replied formally. "I do hope it will prove most beneficial to us both."

"I hope it won't benefit either of us," he said with care in his tone, and the firmness and friendliness of it. "But it will prove beneficial to the Earth Sphere United Nation."

She acknowledged his point. "You are of course correct. All of our focus should be on how to secure a lasting peace."

"I've had a couple of people ask if I was planning on running in the elections, and I thought it worth reiterating that my place is with OZ, supporting ESUN. If you could help me get that across to the delegates..." He trailed off, leaving it something that he made sure others heard.

"I have heard various rumours myself," Relena said, not looking quite like she believed him. "People do seem to rather expect it of you, don't they?" She smiled as if joking but she was trying to be astute - and simply didn't have the experience that he did.

"They shouldn't." Perhaps he could get Dorothy to talk sense into her. It was easier with Dorothy, she knew him. "I'm a neutral party in this, and I have no plans to run." He took a sip of his wine and added, "I suppose hanging it up as a banner would be tacky, but if that's what it takes to convince people." Her.

She smiled a little. "May I ask what changed your mind, Your Excellency?" she asked politely but she was wary of him. His reputation seemed to run deep.

"My time in Luxembourg last year, building Epyon. I know what I need to do." He remembered the feeling of time -- of his existence -- running out, the weird deep relief that had curled into him to know that there was nothing else for him in history.

And then Wufei had changed the timeline out of... something. Stubbornness, perhaps.

"I see," Relena said a little less rotely. "But that did not stop the events that happened later?" It was at least a question rather than a statement.

"Your brother failed to destroy earth. I would say it worked out." He gave a vague gesture to the room around them. "That was all I needed to stop."

"I wish things had turned out better for him," Relena said softly. For a brief moment he was reminded how young she was and she dipped her head slightly. "Milliardo, the brother I remember was kind, and honorable, sweet and... but, he was not at the end."

"No." Treize kept himself under a tight rein, not letting his mind drift to better times. "He was troubled with revenge and the past, and I'm afraid I wasn't able to give him the help he needed. He died an honorable soldier, disabling the ship he was going to crash into the planet."

01 would have no doubt told her, but shorn of emotion he suspected. "I have that at least," she said. "I am glad to see that you are recovering well. There was great dismay when it was thought that you had perished. Even greater surprise when OZ surrendered."

"Lady Anne acted appropriately. It was always a possible outcome." And then she had apparently settled on which of her personalities was ruling, the more peaceful Anne, the one who was ready for the new world. "I suppose there's been greater dismay that I survived."

"Less than you would believe," Relena answered. She had tilted her head a little quizzically. "I apologise, I am just...struggling to reconcile the old world order with that of the new."

"A war to end all wars. No mobile dolls, just humans in mechs. Humans who think and feel and don't want to die. Humans who have homes and families to protect. That... from the old world order, should carry well into the new, I think." He inclined his head slightly, still smiling.

"I truly wish to establish peace. I believe humans have the capacity to be and become so much more," Relena said and he instinctively thought of Quatre. "We waste so much of our lives fighting."

"We do. We have. And that's why I won't be running in the elections. The place for soldiers is to rebuild -- our homes, our countries, and ourselves -- and to support the government, whatever government we have after the elections." And if she needed more convincing, he was done. The well was dry.

She seemed to accept what he was saying this time. Less of the suspicion and inherent hostility though he couldn't claim to feel warmth from her as she said, “I am sure you will support the goal of peace, no matter who the elections go to."

"I will. And OZ will. You can be assured of that." He finished his glass of wine, and honestly, it was going to be a long night but at least that could be out to rest before whatever else he was going to have to face in the morning.

He decided he might as well see how many people had been surreptitiously listening to their conversation. And more to the point, how many of them had believed him.

* * *

The 'briefing' for all the normal security safety measures had been short, concise and classic Heero. Facts, data and an assumption you would get off your ass and do the job. Factions were given basic intel, the points to cover - what the hosts were doing - up to a point, he thought.

Eventually, that part had finished and without discussing it, the five of them were left alone in a room for what he considered to be the real meeting.

He just had to concentrate on not letting things slip.

It surprised him a little when Lady Anne stepped back into the room, closing the door behind her. Trowa and Wufei both glanced up; he was still working intel or something for Dorothy, and now he suspected that Wufei and Sally were all in it together, with Anne, whatever it was.

"We have detailed information on a few threats -- an expected assassination attempt on General Khushrenada; and potential troop movement signifiers from L3." Trowa handed out data chips to all of them, before sitting down in his chair again.

Instantly he had to quash a surge of alarm because he was trying really hard to stop from distracting Treize. Quatre started mentally calculating the tactical impact of assassination; Treize, whether he liked it or not, still had a fanatical following. In terms of potential counter-threat to Dekim, he was the most credible one.

"Any information on a potential assassin?" Wufei asked, leaning forward slightly. He could still sense some of that preoccupation with Treize around him.

He didn't know... quite what had passed between them, if anything, but there seemed to be an understanding. "No, only a record of one being funded." Trowa was flicking through his own datapad. "We're unsure of what delegation he or she might be embedded in, so Heero recommends we increase the security checks as people are coming into the conference hall."

He wasn't going to admit his newly expanded abilities in front of Lady Anne. There was something about her that was a little like running his tongue over a rough bit of tooth to that empathic sense. "We will be running extra sweeps. Duo is going to take a strategic look at the set up," Heero reported. "There are a limited amount of vantage points in the building. Unless you are a circus performer."

That was very un-Heero like. Almost a joke -- Relena must be getting through to him.

Trowa smiled, just a flicker that mostly touched his eyes as he glanced at Heero. "I'll check those vantage points out."

"I..." Duo tilted his head a little, looking at them all. "So he's still giving his speech? That's fucking crazy. I mean, all we need to do is change up the routine a little, make it harder for them to pull off what they planned. Make them have to flex and get hinky. We've all had targets we nearly missed because the timing was wrong or there was someone else there, or..."

"Have we considered if he definitely is the target. If I was planning one, diverting attention onto a subsidiary target would be easy enough," Quatre put in. "It could also be a method designed to take out more than one target...unless of course the instigator is within collateral damage range."

"Which is why Queen Relena's place on the Dias is being moved," Anne said quietly. There was that... something Quatre couldn't place. "And Dorothy's. I believe the screenings will be... sufficient. We'll delay the speech by seven minutes. Make the assassins anxious with the delay."

He would be able to get a read, surely. He would have to be close, or open his empathy up completely, which could get nasty but it would find the assassin he was sure. "The indications of troop movements are far more concerning," Wufei said. "Especially if it means L3 has been building mobile dolls again."

"Or even just mechs. If they plan to invade while we're all sitting ducks..." Duo pulled a face.

"When this is done, we'll go to where Heero has gathered our mechs. So you know where they are if we need to reach them quickly." Wufei glanced at Anne when he said that.

He looked up; Heero had not told him where Sandrock was, but the others seemed to know. That stung a little. "We will need them around the elections. I would be moving in my troops as piecemeal as possible."

He was embedded in close to OZ, closer than Duo, as Noin had swapped sides with them. The taint of General Khushrenada had rubbed off on him apparently and Heero didn’t trust him as he did. "You would," Trowa agreed. "But we know L3 funded Operation Meteor. There was not a long period of pre-staging before we all launched once the pilots were selected."

Quatre nodded, putting away that hurt. "I think it is safe to say there will be some form of a direct attack if Dekim Barton does not secure support for the Presidency. That appears to be his likely political goal at the moment, but he is direct in his approach, and impatient with obstacles. If he is the source of the assassination attempt, he believes that Treize is a threat to his ambitions as a President. It is possible he is not aware that Treize will not be running for that role. Although he would be likely to cause issues as a commander of OZ. It also means any other candidates are likely to be targeted. However, the moment there seems to be a clear uncontested support that he would not be able to sway, he will launch a direct attack on Sanc and potentially the home colonies if he has the force to do so. Do we have figures on potential suit resources?" He paused a moment, letting some of his abilities unfurl, wanting to know what they thought of what he was saying.

"The alliance remnants have no suits left," Wufei offered first. "Only our Gundams. And OZ's suits. There is also Vulkanus, the last mobile doll manufacturing plant; I have no intel on it. Duo and Noin have no intel on it, except that it became unmoored in the war. This could be a significant resource if we were to locate it." The implication was clear that perhaps he knew more; no accusation, just curiosity. But if Treize knew its current location or had concerns about it, he had never said anything or thought it in a way that could be captured. He had been vehemently against the mobile dolls, so the factory might have been OZ, but only during his time in exile. 

More to the point it had not appeared in any of the data he had accessed from the Alliance, Romefeller or OZ or the infiltrated Colonies. It was highly likely then it might have fallen into Barton's hands. "We may have to make a planning assumption that Vulkanus is in the hands of Dekim Barton," he said. "He may genuinely have enough mobile doll capability to mount a simultaneous attack on colonies and Earth. If he does one or the other, then he risks the remaining ones being able to mount a defense before he can logistically get there. But disarmed as they are, a small phalanx at each colony would see them fall."

Trowa was looking at him, studying him, and then inclined his head slightly. "If Khushrenada is being honest with you, you know what resources they have. Do you think between OZ and our Gundams, and the few other OZ Gundams we salvaged -- the Mercurius and Vayeate, a few libras -- that we can deal with what might be coming?"

"I have full access," Quatre confirmed. "It would be an immensely uneven battle but those are odds we are used to." He felt no suspicions of him from Trowa, just a faint persistent sense of missing him, that made his throat tighten little. "Epyon still exists -- I'm not sure if Treize knows I know that, but I do know he probably should not pilot it." He sighed a little. "I also know that there is no force on Earth that will prevent him from doing so in the event of an attack."

"Good. Then we have eight good pilots in Gundams or Gundam quality machines," Duo said, glancing at Anne with his eyebrows up. "And that may be enough."

And he just wasn't sure what to do with Trowa missing him. How could he bridge that or address that, or... "It has turned the tide before," Quatre agreed. He still didn't know where he stood with any of them. They all plucked at his subconscious awareness in one way or another. "Would we get enough warning to get them into space?"

Anne looked thoughtful. "No. Twenty minutes -- maybe enough time to stage and to meet them where they're expected to break through the atmosphere. The war damaged the proximity sensor satellites." 

Quatre considered a moment. "Then we have little choice. We will have to pre-emptively return most of the Gundams to space prior to a commitment to war from Dekim Barton. I propose that Heero, that you protect L1, Duo L2, Noin L4... and if he does launch a surprise attack, his own base will be at its least protected so Wufei and Trowa can lead the counter attack at L3. Anne, myself and Treize will tackle Earth defense -- there are various targets of interest..."

He was surprised to feel a spike of opposition from Heero and was turning to him even as he started speaking.

"I'm not leaving Sanc. The colonies are weak, and the threat is here on Earth." Heero folded his arms over his chest. "You'll just waste your time going to space. L3 has space if they want it."

"I'm in favour of a counter attack," Wufei said, looking at Trowa and Quatre. "We need to weaken them at home."

"L2 needs all the protection it can get..." Duo was still sympathetic to his home, in a deep way that Quatre could feel immediately.

"A counter does seem a sound tactical decision," Trowa commented, his arms folded.

"If we hand them space at the first conflict we would win the battle but lose the war," Quatre said urgently. "Operation Meteor is always going to be a potential source of danger and if Dekim Barton takes all the colonies he will sacrifice resource satellites at the least to hold over us. If Lady Anne agrees, we could substitute her position on Earth to yours as protector of L1 and still manage this plan. If there turns out to be no space attack no one needs to know, and if they do focus solely on Earth you will be able to flank them."

That seemed a little more satisfactory, though Heero still seemed wary. "After this meeting we'll stage ourselves."

"Based on intelligence that we have right now it's possible he could launch an attack today, tomorrow, or three months from now." Trowa flicked through something in his datapad. "And I still believe his opening salvo will be assassinating one of our potential defenders. Which means we lose that Gundam. Unless you have another pilot who could..."

Anne shook her head. "No, I can't think of anyone who wouldn't succumb to Epyon."

"If we stage ourselves immediately that will leave Heero, Lady Anne and myself to try and stop any assassination attempts," Quatre said. He had to ask, because it was a damn risk they were taking, particularly with it being Treize's life in the balance.

"We have too many high profile targets to go yet." Wufei shook his head at them all, disproving. "If he attacks while he's still here, we have the snake by its tail."

"And it could turn and bite us," Trowa said.

Quatre considered. "Can we afford to wait? He might not wait for the campaigns, if he considers his chances at Presidency lost."

"But if we attack a _free_ colony before a declaration of war," Wufei pointed out. "We undermine what we are working for."

"I gotta agree. And if you pre-stage up there, you're going to need life support and you're gonna need fuel and air and food if this is going to be a long haul. That means hanging out at the lunar base, which isn't... really a threat to the colonies, right? It's just moving assets around if nobody knows what we're doing."

He was grateful for Duo's input -- he was the master of the stealth attack after all. "You are correct. The more discretion the move can be done with, the better." He paused for a moment, taking in the general mood of the room. "Is there anything else I've missed?"

It all felt like they had come to an agreement, but it wasn't a bad plan at all, but no one was happy with having to do it. And Anne was oddly pleased with him. "Other business?" Trowa asked, looking around.

"Aside from needing to know where Sandrock is, but I'm sure Heero will let me know shortly," Quatre said lightly. "I haven't had a chance to really speak to any of you much yet."

"And here we are all going our separate ways already," Duo agreed. "You doing okay? We were all worried when that picture of you covered in blood got out. I know I talked to you after, but..."

"I'm fine," Quatre said, trying to sound reassuring, knowing Duo had brought it up for the others to hear, and thankful for that.. "I hadn't recovered from my injuries, all that blood was from Treize, and I banged my face on his seat during a rough landing because I had my hands inside an injury site trying to put pressure on a bleed. I admit it was not my finest hour."

"It was very..." Trowa had a tight expression on his face. "Upsetting. I think that's..." He glanced at Anne, who nodded. "We'll start to move out. Under cover of darkness, which gives us some time."

Wufei grunted, and stood up slowly, watching all of them. "I'll catch Sally up on this. Quatre, it's good to see you again."

There was a simple agreement in his emotions about that which was reassuring to Quatre at least, for all there was a gentle layer of guilt pervading everything. Nothing unusual for them really. Trowa’s on the other hand felt complicated. "I hope we will be able to talk more after all this," he said by way of agreement.

Heero... His emotions seemed to be coiled up like a suspicious rattlesnake. Like he wanted to express something but there were so many layers tying his emotions down and...

He could fix that. He suddenly knew he could but...He quashed down the urge as hard as possible, wincing a little.

At least he reeled himself back in, instead of Treize yanking him up.

"I hope so, too." Wufei nodded his goodbyes, and headed to the door. Most of them he'd be seeing at the lunar base soon.

Anne looked, felt like she wanted to say something to him, but instead moved to pull Heero aside. He turned to Trowa and Duo, of them all they felt the closest to him. He was surprised at the strength of feeling from Duo though. "I wanted to thank you both in person," he said. "For... talking to me on the link. It helped a lot."

Duo reached out first, pulled him into a hug. "You seemed kinda shaky and weird, you know, but you seem happier now. Maybe. You really okay?"

He went into the hug and the sense of touch overrode his barriers and a small portion of his feelings of uncertainty, isolation, desperation to know they were okay, flooded over them mixed liberally with the golden loving feeling before he could yank it back in.

"Sorry," he said faintly.

Duo ducked his head down, and squeezed him. "Nah. You must be starving for like normal human contact. Yeah, we're okay. We are. I sort of wish you were coming with us."

"I sort of wish that too," Quatre said.

"It makes sense strategically," Trowa put in. "With Sandrock being the most configured for Earth based conflict."

He wanted to not talk about missions, and he could sense Trowa didn't know how to talk safely about anything but what was happening at the moment. He was grateful to Duo for allowing that bit of humanity through. "Yes..." he sighed a little. He put his hand lightly on Duo's chest and felt the pulse of connection there, the pull and tug to him. And then to Trowa - there as well, something different, complex. "Don't get killed. I'll know if you do...and I'll..."

"I won't get killed." Trowa leaned in, surprisingly, and hugged him with one arm. "When this is over..."

"Oh, shit. We still have to leaflet this place," Duo declared, half surprising himself and Quatre.

Quatre half laughed. "Nearly forgot one of the main reasons to come to this meeting...I wrote a...plan, a proposal for the peace process anonymously which we're going to drop with each delegation. Will you help?" he asked Trowa, not wanting to lose that contact with him. Different to Duo but he was left in no doubt as to whether he wanted to be there with him.

"Yes. We need to wait until the place is quieter to leave. They might notice Gundams on the move," Trowa said wryly. "Where're your copies?"

"Noin was getting them done so...where you were?" he said to Duo hopefully.

"Yep. C'mon, let's get going." Duo waved to them, and started to the door, too, Trowa and Quatre in tow. It left Heero and Anne in the room, but he would talk to them later, when everyone else was gone.

He had to work out what the reserved feeling was from Heero. He didn't mind him being cautious, or having different views on a mission but something was off. Did he really believe he had been subverted or something like that? He wasn't sure. Well, he had a mission of his own and if they could get through the danger zone, it could be that a real debate about peace and how to get there would begin. It was a place to start.

* * *

Banquets like that were stamina events, and his stamina was less robust than it had been before the war. He'd been glib tongued, quick to make a deal, as smooth and effective as ever he was sure but privately wondering at the information from Dorothy's pilot.

It wasn't the first time that he had been identified as a target for assassination, but it was the first time where he really had no real impetus to fight for life.  
He needed a drink, a real one. If he was going to potentially be shot, he wanted to have had the best drink in the Sanc kingdom beforehand.

It wasn't going to be a cheap banquet wine or whiskey, either. He could make an escape from the compound of course, and his quarters had a decently stocked bar, but...

"You look like a General in need of a drink," a familiar voice said behind him. "My XO senses are tingling."

Noin, of course it was. She had been doing her duty admirably working the banquet but it was mostly broken up now.

"Your XO senses are damn well spot on." Treize turned to her, smiling and feeling it. They had all been through so much, and so much of it had been his fault or responsibility. She had grown up to be such a strong, capable soldier.

"Also my training. Never go anywhere without an emergency bottle for said General," Noin smiled back. "Got one back in my quarters sir. Was hoping to see you before this for a face to face for the traditional Khushrenada Debrief, but... well, we could do it now?"  
It was a sort of tradition, after a big battle.

"That sounds excellent. I know video meetings and calls isn't a way to catch up." And everything had moved so fast at the end, after he'd survived and decisions and offers had to be made. He had secured her support, but hadn't gone deeper.

"Drinking is less fun done alone," she said and there was just a hint in her voice that implied she had been doing some of that recently though she too had mastered the mask of normality. "Follow me sir. We missed it after the Eve war."

"And I certainly wasn't up to it in Tobruk." He fell into step with her, and it looked as if they were leaving to discuss important military matters, when it was far from it. "How have you been?"

"Keeping busy," she said. "No rest for the wicked. Duo is a handful. I guess he exists for the express purpose of being the answer to any officer asking "Who on Earth would think to wire remote detonator cherry bombs to the staff toilets?"

"Now we know." That amused him; he was just glad that Quatre was out and talking with people and staff again. "Quatre is exceedingly polite and untroublesome, for comparison."

"Mmm. Got to say sir, there's some stuff to talk about there," Noin replied as they made their way through the corridors. It wasn't much further from his recollection, which was good because those words made him really want the drink.

"Ah, Dorothy called it my media problem. Yes. Well you saw him today, far from worse for wear." Invested and excited, which was even better as far as Treize was concerned. That Quatre kept offering real help over and over was astounding.

Noin poised at the door way and key carded it open. "There was a lot of speculation about that. Duo was on the verge of abducting him away." She walked in and went over to the side, collecting glasses and a bottle. "For you sir."

"Oh. This is excellent -- I haven’t see Napue in ages. I hope you have tonic." He hadn't looked for it, but he'd also been very concerned about getting through the day for the last year or so. "I'd noticed he seemed concerned when I left with him."

Tonic was forthcoming and Noin put the glasses down. "Want anything else? Apparently Duo runs on snacks and sometimes after a banquet I just want something like a packet of chips." She was skirting the question a little.

"If you have some around." Treize tilted his head slightly, watching her putter around. "What am I missing?"

Apparently they had a lot as she came back with an armful. "He stashes it when he's feeling insecure," she said and sighed as she gestured for him to help himself. "None of it looked good sir. I confronted him about his behaviour and he came back at me with the evidence they had collected through whatever means. We were all saying, no, nothing bad was happening but...If I had that information I would have been drawing the conclusions they were but... I know you. I know you wouldn't."

He snagged a bag of crisps, and then poured tonic into both of their glasses. It was absolutely frustrating, but he wasn't going to let it show. "Is this why you've all been icing me out?"

"Partly. It turns out it takes a lot of time to wrangle a one man army into compliance," Noin said as she poured the gin. "We were trying to contain them but...Relena's information was particularly damning which meant 01's viewpoint was pretty fixed and brutal."

"Every time we had a meeting, I felt like I was the enemy, and couldn't pinpoint why. It was insane." He cocked an eyebrow at her. "What information?"

"Finally got it out of Duo. Had a proper screaming fight about it," Noin knocked back a generous gulp of the gin and tonic. "An OZ plan. I'm guessing one of Vingt's about targeting a high profile Colony representative as a hostage of sorts and subverting them by any means necessary."

"Oh." That caught him off guard a little, and he accepted the gun to sip at it and enjoy the taste. The rosemary was already infused in and it was very good with even cut tonic. "I wish we'd started that plan sooner. He and Chilias might both still be alive."

"Maybe. But Quatre is pretty much the ideal candidate and then there was that whole thing at Tobruk.." Noin sighed. "Caused a bit of a rift between the pilots."

"Wait." He sipped at the gin and tonic, watching her as she ate a few chips. "What, I'm afraid I need it drawn out from point a to point b. I explained what happened at Tobruk."

"I know sir, I was there. I explained it, but because I was not physically present to see it I was caught in the trap of 'obviously you'd believe him if he told you that'." Noin grimaced a little. "You've got to bear in mind, they didn't believe Quatre either."

"What did they think was going on?" He rubbed at the back of his neck, looking at her with what he knew had to be disbelief. All of that poor treatment hadn't been imagined at all, then, hadn't been paranoia.

"I thought you were lying low, because it turns out you are a lying liar that lies about how injured you were," Noin wagged a finger at him in admonishment. "But, according to Duo, they thought the 'subverting by any means necessary' part of the plan was in play, or you were unstable after your defeat and Quatre was suffering your wrath for some reason of his own. Pilot 02 was beside himself and then some. He was outvoted."

"I was unstable after my defeat. I've been concussed more times than I can count, I'm missing an eye. I meant to die out there." He twitched a look at her. "Watson's tired of coming to see me."

"A lot of people meant to die out there." Noin stared into her gin a moment and knocked back a generous mouthful. "Watson is a damn saint sir. And they managed to hack pretty much all reports including the summonses for doctors for Quatre. I know, I get it, it's just it started a bit of a ticking time bomb with regard to all of them. If Quatre hadn't been so blatantly the author of the Peace document without your knowledge, we would be looking at Gundams on the run right now."

"Never even crossed my mind." He hadn't even anticipated that kind of outcome, it hadn't even danced across his mind. That was a bit startling and to some degree refreshing. "Quatre's... he wasn't in good shape. Underfed, blood sugar all over the place. He wasn't healthy before Dorothy plucked out his kidney because of the War. But he's thoughtful and good company, so I kept him close."

"Duo says he reckons he blames himself for everything," she said. "Literally everything. I'll be honest, I thought he might just lose it when he saw you."

It was hard to not smile then, looking at her and finishing his drink. "I had no idea. None at all. Not even a suspicion. I thought perhaps Relena thought I was planning to run in the election, and I talked to her about it tonight."

"Apparently Trowa has reported that Relena thinks you are enacting your plan and will make an attempt for the government soon." Noin looked at the bottle and topped up her glass. "They all thought you'd take Wufei."

He reached for his own, and added tonic just to smooth down the taste. "He did not need to deal with me given what I had done, and what his colony had just done. Sally was an excellent choice."

"True. Anyway, Dorothy, Sally and I have had our hands full stopping things from exploding. Relena on the other hand..." She huffed. "Well, her and Heero are an interesting combination."

"Yes, I think they're both in a bit of a paranoia spiral right now." He gave her a look and added, "One of you could've said something and we could've discussed this like adults, because I really had no idea."

"Believe it or not this is my first opportunity without company sir," Noin said, giving him a look back. "Company that is like juggling a grenade with the pin out. This has not been the easiest of transitions." She looked away from him abruptly and he could see her swallow hard, even before she then took a gulp of her drink.

He really did wonder sometimes about the impact of his concussion on his ability to fake along deftly in interactions for more than a couple of hours. "Is that Duo?"

"Yes. And Dorothy, and Sally, and Relena, because they have a tendency to think I have some form of insight even though I keep pointing out I didn't know you were going to try and get yourself killed..." Noin answered, clutching her glass too tightly. "Sir."

They hadn't talked about those last days of the war. Treize looked down at his glass, and took a rather good swig. It was still damn good gin. "I started the plan with that in mind. I'm sorry about Mirialdo."

"Perhaps it would have been better if he had struck me down," Noin said quietly. "Because I wouldn't have known that he cared for me. But not enough to try and live apparently. That seems to be a reoccurring theme with men in my life. Ah, fuck, gin makes me maudlin."

"It is a depressant," Treize agreed, topping off her glass from the bottle as her glass came close to the side table again. "People get caught up in their own heads. I can't imagine what he was thinking in the end." If Anne hadn't moved fast, that beam blast would've vaporized him.

"I... don't feel him gone. I should, shouldn't I?" She shook her head. "But I don't. It's like if someone was killed it was Mirialdo who I didn't know, and Zechs is still out there. Stupid how the mask was the truer version of himself."

"Yes. He was arrogant and funny and excellent as Zechs. With or without the mask. Prince Peacecraft was... an amalgamation of the weight of expectation and political manipulation." He watched her lean back in her chair, and that was good.

"And a whole Gundam load of crazy," Noin said and made a noise of exasperation. "Ugh, why do you drink gin anyway? All of this is getting in the way of what I know you want me to do."

"I find it gives me a nice smooth maudlin." He flashed her a smile. "You're doing excellent with the reins of OZ. You have always been a natural leader."

"A natural herder of cats, as Duo calls me," Noin corrected. "Cats with verniers strapped to their fluffy butts. I am just that good."

"Even if they can juke left and right with little warning, you herd them. I'm... struggling. The speech tomorrow will help." He gave an insouciant shrug, the kind of gesture that had always pissed Vingt off back in the day.

"Shit, I better stop drinking, got to be ready for that," Noin mused. "You...you didn't seem to be struggling earlier?"

"Oh good." He flashed her a smile, relaxing with the drinking. "I can still fake it."

"As one of the best," Noin said. "And you wonder why we always think you've got some master plan going on every time we see you."

It was hard to not smirk as he took another sip, because there was still that little bit of a thrill of being good at what he did. "My only plan is to keep things moving until the election."

"You should be convalescing," Noin chastised him. "Not running around brokering deals that should take months to settle.

"And if I weren't here brokering deals, I assume everyone would think I was sitting in my townhouse, petting a white Persian?" He kept smiling. "Can you imagine what a white Persian would do to the carpet in the main hall?"

"More to the point they would be thinking you were petting a blond pilot," Noin said archly. "I don't want to know what he does to the carpet in the main hall."

"Mostly pick crumbs off of it because it's rude to leave work for people." Treize toyed with the base of the glass. "He's very quiet and self-contained, and yes, we've both found some comfort."

"It's pretty weird, but you two seem good together," Noin said. "You looked so proud when he put out the peace plan." She huffed a little to herself and then smiled. "You're going to have some competition I reckon."

"Friendly competition only, I think he well surpasses me there. Vingt always did think I was lazy." He winked at her, and let himself slouch a little in the chair. "Have you thought about where you'd like to base yourself after all this?"

"Not in Sanc. Anywhere but Sanc. Why has Sanc not sunk? Answer me that." Noin was unusually vocal about that.

"Brussels has good weather. And there's the rebuild project at the academy, but..." He waved his hand side to side. "We don't need to train children."

"Soldiers are children no matter their age," Noin answered and sighed putting down her empty glass. "It all depends what OZ is after all this. If it exists even."

"We will require a military. But it does not need to be us, and it does not need to be what we were. The mission is all wrong." Treize offered her another refill.

"Until we know what is needed, can't say where I'll be. I've got nothing else except this so..." She put her hand over the glass. "Cutting myself off if I might have to fly tomorrow. Nothing worse than doing it half drunk."

He nodded, and tipped a bit more into his own, and then set it aside. "Brussels is nice. I stayed there for a while when Chilias threw me onto the diplomatic circuit."

She got up a little carefully, and headed to get water. "You'll be going to Luxembourg right? Brussels would be good though. Central to everywhere. Probably a good place for a ...whatever headquarters."

"Quite so. OZ was headquartered in Luxembourg out of sheer convenience and laziness for me, and I needed to do something with the house... I think when things shake out, I'd like to hold onto that property." he was hoping to nudge her along towards thinking of change in the future if it looks different than what it looked like now, although that was harder with Zechs out of the picture. 

"Anne's probably already waaaay ahead of us," Noin practically snorted into her glass. "I was never that good at that part of things. I would have paid money to see her deal with 02. Duo. Maxwell. Whoever he is right now."

"Duo's, I think. I'm still bothered by pilot 03's name choice. Still, it is what it is." And what it also was was that Anne was avoiding him. Although he still couldn't blame her for it given everything, given his multiple failed attempts killing himself in the same battle. Perhaps it was best to just leave that alone. 

"Quatre and Wufei are the only ones with real names anyway." Noin exhaled a little. "I envy you having Quatre around. He was an excellent listener during the war. Shared a few tendencies with you for the dramatic last stand and strategic overview. I probably shouldn't be surprised you got together. I guess...you have a lot in common."

"Poor little rich boy club. The membership is small, and feels strange complaining about anything given we're still in excellent circumstances." He offered her a bag of crisps.

She took it and shrugged. "You'd never think he had it in him to be a pilot. But, hell...he did some crazy things just like all of them. " She drank her water down. "Saw him use an exploding shuttle to give him enough velocity so he could take a killing blow."

"Can you imagine what all of them would've been like if they had some formal military training?" He had thought that Zechs was that kind of once in a lifetime sparkling performer.

"Well, Heero and Trowa did, and Wufei had training in general Warcraft, and warrior skills. Duo and Quatre.. we had nothing on their backgrounds to show it. " Noin had another handful of crisps. "Crazy really. Anyone of the specials should have been able to take them but..."

Treize popped one into his mouth and chewed, taking his time. Crisps were a querulous food. "Possibly why Zechs was so fascinated in trying to best Heero."

"He could best everyone else," Noin said sadly. "He flew like he was born with wings." Her crisp packet was empty and she stared into it as if disbelieving this could be true.

So he handed her another one, and filled the rest of his own glass with the tonic water. It would just go flat otherwise. "He did. He was an excellent pilot to the end." And he had died cleaning up his own damn mess. 

She took that packet too. "If I didn't have my disbelief, I don't know how I would be functioning," she said seriously. "One day I'm going to realise all that hope was just a..false echo reading and I'll be fuck all use to anyone."

"You'll surprise yourself I think. We've all carried on in the face of loss before." He didn't need to remind her specifically or remunerate it.

"Yes but this is Zechs…" She looked up at him. "If he is dead, he is gone forever, and if he isn't...he has chosen to leave me behind thinking him dead."

He wished he had an answer that would soothe her, but he had no reassurance. It was just very likely he was dead. "Yes. Either way, yes."

"I'm so angry at him but I'm not sure why," she muttered. "I need to do as you've taught me. Keep on going no matter what. You didn't tell me it was so damn hard."

"Some days it's very hard. You can be angry at someone and still love them. They don't have to be exclusive feelings." He sipped at the tonic water.

"I don't have time for feelings," she said running her fingers through her short hair. "I wanted to ask you if you were okay really. Not the General doing the rounds but...this was meant to be about you. "

Very little was actually about him, and that amused him. "This was about catching up. I'm alive. That's good enough."

"Treize...sir, " Noin looked curiously intent. "They are looking to assassinate you. Maybe even tomorrow and your...prisoner cares more about that than you seem to. We want you to live."

They had treated him badly for weeks, and yet individually each claimed it was out of their hands. Relena acted as if she had certainly had nothing to do with it, and yet she was the source and... and there was nothing to be gained by being upset. It wasn't useful. "I'm not afraid, if that's what you're asking."

"I know you're not afraid," Noin appeared to have tears brimming in her eyes just a little. "I hate the fact that even now after all this time you can make me think everything is okay, and then I find you've been bleeding out while you do that. I hate the fact that I didn't act when I should have done because I was too busy drinking myself to oblivion when I wasn't on duty. I hate that...I've let you down because that you can't hide."

"My expectations are too high. I've let myself down as well." He tilted his head a little, watching her. "Zero showed me that I have no future. And yet somehow I have persisted."

"Surviving and bringing about peace is not letting anyone down," Noin responded, pushing her own emotion back in a move that he could have seen in the mirror. "This is what I worry about. You do have a future, Zero was wrong otherwise you wouldn't be here."

"Or perhaps I will do nothing else worth the historical record. I modeled every option, every possible world, and the ones where I lived weren't an improvement." He sipped at the vaguely gin hinted tonic water. "I told Quatre that and he had the same answer you did."

"Quatre is a smart guy," Noin said and shrugged. "Do you have to do anything else? Isn't saving the world and space enough?"

"I don't know. I hadn't expected to be here, so I didn't have any backup plans prepared. House arrest and spending all that time with Zero did not agree with me." He ate another crisp.

"Zero doesn't agree with anyone." It was said with forceful certainty. "Anyway, I apologise Treize. Sir. I've been shocked by my performance."

"I haven't been able to travel. I've honestly spent more time sprawled out on my couch than I care to admit. You've done an excellent job of being here and dealing with all this." He knew that if he had been doing the same tasks his focus and showmanship would have frayed.

"Even so." It was a helpless sort of a shrug that spoke volumes about her wanting to be able to help, but finding herself unable to do that.

"As long as I'm on the stage, someone is going to be gunning to kill me. Or worse. It's the risk of being a public figure." He ate another crisp, after contemplating the edge of it. His depth perception was still delightfully shot. "The speech tomorrow is going to be worth it. We need the change."

"We don't need you getting killed," Noin admonished. "Try not to do that, especially on TV."

"For a third time," he agreed. "I promise, we will have a plan. Just haven't come up with it yet."

"Well you've got...about 7 hours," she replied looking at her watch. "Which means I'm going to have to call it a night as I've got to hit space in a few hours."

He stood up, tidying around himself so he didn't leave a mess. "Yes. Hopefully, this was all an overestimation, and I'll see you after."

"I'll hold you to that sir," Noin agreed. "Next time, we'll pick a night we can drink right through like we used to. And not Gin. Need something for the more upbeat stories."

"I have some very terrible spiced vodka back at the townhouse the next time you come over." He tucked the empty bags into a bin and set the empty glasses by the sideboard. "We'll see you tomorrow."

She saluted him, looking oddly like she would have preferred to hug him and he had rarely seen her as emotional. "Good luck sir," she said standing to see him leave.

He half wished she had, but took it for what it was, and returned the salute neatly before turning to see himself out. "We have skill, Noin. Luck is just a bonus."

She smiled at that and he left her still smiling, which considering the revelations of the evening was an achievement. It seemed he wasn't the only one left devastated by the War.


End file.
